knew - the locations of our safe houses, the routes we run, our alpha pair's lair and defense grid."
"How did Lucas survive?"
"I don't know." Tamsyn sounded utterly bewildered. "They'd held back with his father because he was the important one, but with Lucas..." She shook her head. "It was as if he refused to die. Some people said he survived because he'd been born a Hunter and had strengths we didn't know about. I just think he wanted vengeance."
"The ShadowWalkers escaped?"
Tamsyn nodded. "We were strong enough to drive them off but not to track and take them down without leaving our young vulnerable. As a result, we lived under a kind of martial law for five years, never leaving the group, never making ourselves targets."
Her eyes met Sascha's. "When Lucas was only eighteen and still a juvenile by our standards, he went out one night with a pack of sentinels and some others. The sentinels had given him their loyalty the day they learned that despite the torture, he hadn't broken."
Sascha couldn't begin to imagine the strength of will it must've taken for Lucas to honor his loyalty to Pack. But he had.
"They went hunting every single adult male ShadowWalker." Blood fury threaded Tamsyn's normally gentle voice. "By the time they finished, the ShadowWalkers had ceased to exist and DarkRiver was a pack no one dared to threaten."
Sascha wasn't repulsed by the violence. It was far more palatable to her than the hypocrisy of the Psy, who let killers roam free while championing their peaceful image. At least the changelings were honest. At least they loved enough to hunger for vengeance. All the Psy hungered for was power.
"Five years later," Tamsyn said, wrenching Sascha out of her bleak thoughts, " Lachlan, our ruling alpha, stepped down in favor of Lucas. The sentinels vowed their blood oath without hesitation." She shook her head. "He was only twenty-three. Most leopards are barely mature at that age but Lucas was already tougher than any of the other males."
"He was honed in fire." Sascha thought of the pain that had created Lucas and mourned for the boy who'd never had a chance to be a youth. What must it have been like to grow up in the shadow of his parents' blood?
"Do you understand?" Tamsyn looked into Sascha's eyes.
"Yes." Tears fell in her most secret heart - she didn't yet know how to cry in the open.
The healer wasn't convinced. "The ShadowWalkers kept him tied up. They made him watch his father being tortured before turning on him. The things they did... Don't ask him to be the one who anchors you."
Don't ask him to watch you die while he stands helpless.
"He'll volunteer." Sascha knew what kind of a man Lucas was, what kind of a leader.
"Then stop him. Tell him he won't do. I'll take his place." Raw pain darkened Tamsyn's eyes.
Sascha nodded but they both knew that turning Lucas from his chosen path was an almost impossible task.
In spite of her mental exhaustion, she was lying awake in bed when she felt his presence nearby. A minute later, he pushed open the bedroom door and closed it behind him, treating her room as his territory.
She knew that to let him have his way would only reinforce his already autocratic tendencies, but she also knew that her chance of surviving her impending mental collapse, trap or no trap, was close to nil. Either she'd flame out or the Council's mercenaries would hunt her down after her shields failed.
Time was rushing out from between her desperately cupped hands - she didn't want to pretend not to adore him tonight. Quite simply, he was everything she'd ever dreamed of and never dared to touch.
In the soft darkness he was all masculine prowl as he got into bed beside her, lying atop the blankets while she lay below, barely dressed in an old T-shirt that Tamsyn had found. She'd given it to Sascha with an odd comment: "No other scent will pacify him."
He put one arm over her body. "I want to be naked under those sheets with you."
She felt herself blush and gloried in finally being able to just "be." Death was certain. She might as well enjoy the life she had left. "Is that how you usually woo prospective lovers?" She was teasing; this felt right, as if she'd been loving him forever.
He nuzzled at her neck, one hand moving up the sheet to clasp hers as it lay open beside her head. "Only